Sister is missing again. I will never know the loneliness that has always plagued her, since my own is partially self-imposed and slightly enjoyed. My need for control prevents me from taking any substance that would cloud my mind. Addiction is too common for me to romanticize. Where would I place my superiority complex, if drugs push it out? How can I ensure its safety? We are all fucked in the head, I know well, but sometimes the noise in nice, like Sunday’s apple pie.
Everything about Juliet has always bothered me, starting with her birth. We are polar opposites, made to stand too close to one another. I notice the way we go at each other, and it is beyond sibling rivalry. Our war is less about a conquering, and more about absolute annihilation. I think this would not be the case, if only she would leave me alone. It has never been difficult to forget about her existence, when she is not near. Then, it is obvious that we only feel for the other what is necessary to keep up appearances.
Sister will always be a curved sapling in a neglected garden. She will continue to do what cannot be undone. Her blood grows thick with sin. Out there, she learns ways that will drive her further away from any potential she had to be anything other than the embarrassment I avoid telling anyone about. I do, and this is true, want to love her.